Sabin’s planned seduction was obviously beginning, Mallory thought. Instead of furs and jewels, she was being given companions to keep her occupied.
Her tone was barbed as she said sweetly to Carey, “Do you always play court jester when you’re not laying traps for poor unwary ladies?”
Carey flinched. “I wasn’t happy about it. I was over the moon when Sabin told me it was only a misunderstanding that’s been straightened out now.”
“Back off, Mallory,” Sabin said. “You know you have no intention of blaming Carey for my sins.”
“You’re right. But I thought he deserved a few minutes of discomfort for following your dictates so slavishly.”
“Slavish isn’t a term I’d use for Carey,” Sabin said dryly. “He’s much more likely to lecture than praise me.”
“Good. My opinion of your taste is beginning to rise.” Mallory set her orange juice down on the table and smiled at Carey. “You have permission to stay, court jester.”
Carey grinned. “I warn you I’m no Robin Williams. My amusement value is on a much quieter plane.”
“So is mine.” A servant set a plate of melon and strawberries before Mallory and glided silently away. “But there won’t be time for much play anyway. I intend to make use of you. I need someone to help me rehearse, and you can cue me.”
“Rehearse?” Carey shot Sabin a surprised glance. “I thought she—”
“Mallory would like to be prepared in case she wishes to leave Kandrahan and take over the role in Breakaway.” Sabin’s gaze rested on Mallory’s face. “But I believe she’s wisely decided to take a three-week vacation before she makes that decision. Isn’t that correct?”
Mallory met his gaze. “Partially. The choice is already made, but three weeks of rest won’t do me any harm.”
“No harm at all,” he said softly. “Vacations can sometimes be very pleasurable.” He stood up. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, Carey brought me some work to do from Marasef. I’ll go attend to it so I can be free to enjoy your charming company this afternoon.”
She glanced down at her plate. “I intend to be working on the script all day.”
“No.” Sabin’s smile failed to hide his iron determination. “I couldn’t think of letting you exhaust yourself. You and Carey can work until two this afternoon on the script, but the rest of the day is mine.” He turned to Carey. “If she begins to tire, cut it short. I’m holding you responsible.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the dining room.
“What an exit line.” Carey made a face. “He puts your back up and turns me into an authority figure instead of a playmate. Diplomacy was never one of Sabin’s strong points.”
She began to eat her melon. “Have you known him for a long time?”
“Thirteen years. We went to Harvard together, and I started to work for him as soon as he assumed control of Wyatt Enterprises after his father died.” Carey lifted his coffee cup to his lips. “He’s not as hard as he pretends. He hasn’t had an easy life, Mallory.”
“Ah, yes, the life of a billionaire is fraught with woe.”
“I mean it.” Carey’s expression was grave. “His father was one of those captain-of-industry types who demand everything and give nothing. From the time Sabin was fourteen he was working for Wyatt Enterprises day and night while trying to keep up his schoolwork.”
She shook her head doubtfully. “Ben said his stepfather was very indulgent.”
“With Ben, not Sabin. Sabin was his own son. He had to measure up.” Carey met Mallory’s gaze across the table. “And he did measure up to impossibly high standards. He’s a giant in more than just physical size. The problem with people who are bigger than life is they tend to ask too much from the people around them.”
“Ben?”
He shook his head. “Sabin only asked that Ben give him honesty.”
And Ben had failed Sabin as he had failed her, Mallory thought with a pang. “But he asks more from you?”
“You’re damned right he does. He works me to the point of exhaustion.” Carey grinned. “And then he gives me a year’s wages as a bonus and a dream vacation at one of those escapes-of-the-rich-and-famous resorts.” His smile faded. “But there’s never a vacation for Sabin. He’s still trying to measure up.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Sabin won’t.” He paused. “I think you’ll be good for him, and sometimes it’s easier to understand someone’s actions if you know how they think.”
She did a double take and then smiled. “That’s what I told Sabin.”
“I knew we were on the same wavelength.” He returned her smile. “Uncomplicated. We work hard and enjoy life and the people around us. We climb step by step and don’t try to leap tall buildings with a single bound.”
She nodded. “But we get very irritated if someone arbitrarily steps in and blocks that climb.”
“Oops.” He reached out and poured coffee into her cup from the carafe. “Okay. I’ll shut up. I suppose it’s natural for you to be on the defensive.”
“I’d be insane if I wasn’t,” she said dryly as she picked up the cup and cradled it in her hands. “You may look at me as therapy for your workaholic boss, but I have a few problems of my own.”
“Yes, you do.” He hesitated. “Did Sabin tell you he had a private investigating team working on clearing up Ben’s murder?”
“No.”
“They turned up several bits of information that helped to free you, but it also meant you were under surveillance.”
“Charming,” she said wearily. “I not only had the police tailing me but a horde of private investigators.”
“Sabin’s contract with Randolph ran out two days ago, but they sent me one final bit of information you should be advised about. It was in the packet of stuff that arrived yesterday.”
She looked at him inquiringly.
“The day after you left New York your apartment was broken into and trashed.”
Her hands stiffened on the delicate china cup. “A theft?”
“Nothing seems to have been taken. Your landlady told Randolph’s man it was vandalism. Mirrors broken, cushions ripped.” He paused. “Photographs slashed. She thought it might be some local hoodlums.”
A chill iced through Mallory at the thought of mindless violence reaching across an ocean to touch her, even here in Sedikhan. “What photographs?”
“Some of your publicity photos.” He gazed at her, troubled. “That frightens you?”
A telephone ringing in the night and only silence on the end of the line.
“Yes.” Her hand was trembling as she lifted the cup to her lips. “Violence always frightens me. I don’t understand it.”
“Have there been any other instances like this?”
“Not like this.” She looked into the black depths of the liquid in her cup. “Phone calls.”
“What?”
“Phone calls. Ever since Ben died there have been phone calls. Every night. Sometimes during the day too. I answer the phone and there’s silence, and the phone is hung up.”
“A practical joker?”
She smiled with an effort. “I didn’t find the joke very funny. I was going through a bad time, and I didn’t need that kind of war on my nerves. I started to need pills to sleep at night.”
“Why didn’t you get your number changed?”
“I did. Twice. And I switched to unlisted. I still got the calls.”
“I think we should tell Sabin about this.”
“No, it’s my business. Sabin’s already trying to run my life to suit himself. I’m certainly not going to throw any more bits and pieces of it his way.”
Carey’s jaw set stubbornly. “Sabin should know. If you won’t tell him, I believe I’d better.”
Mallory’s lips tightened. “You set me up once, Carey. I can forgive one betrayal, but I won’t a second.”
He flinched. “That stung.”
“Most people are hurt by their own ac
tions.”
He sighed. “Okay. I won’t tell Sabin … yet. But I’m going to keep Randolph on the job for a bit longer. Just to see if anything else happens.”
“Nothing will happen.” She smiled brilliantly at him as she pushed back her chair and stood up. “There’s a chance the vandalism has nothing to do with the phone calls.”
“That’s why you immediately connected the two.”
“I’ve been a little paranoid lately.” She crooked her finger at him. “Work.”
He rose to his feet. “Cuing you won’t be work. You should attend one of Sabin’s brainstorming sessions, if you want to see work.”
“Don’t be so sure. Cuing can be monotonous as the devil.” She moved toward the door. “I’ll get the script. Meet me in the garden in ten minutes.”
“Break time.”
Mallory turned to see Sabin coming toward them down the garden path. “I can’t stop now. I need to go over this scene again.”
“The doctor said you need a nap every day. That takes priority.”
“Rescue, at last.” Carey sighed as he tossed the script on the bench beside him. “And I thought you were a perfectionist, Sabin. She must have made me go over that scene a hundred times.”
“Well, take a break, and then go to the library and fax those contracts to Paris.”
“You’re going to take the bid?”
“Hell, no, not unless they agree to the clauses I inserted.” Sabin’s hand closed on Mallory’s wrist. “As soon as they get the contract, they’re going to call and kick up a fuss. But tell them either to put up or no deal.”
“What if they want to talk to you?”
“Tell them I can’t be disturbed.”
Carey looked at him in surprise. “Well, that’s a first.”
Sabin was pulling Mallory toward the house. “I have a delicate constitution, and I need my rest.”
Carey chuckled. “I can see you’re fading away.”
“I need to go over this scene,” Mallory protested. “And I’m not a child to be sent to her room for a nap.”
“Who’s sending you to your room? You’re going to my suite, and I’m going with you.” He pulled her down the hall. “I know damn well you probably wouldn’t rest if I left you to your own devices.” He slanted her a smile. “You’re clearly a project that needs close monitoring.”
He threw open a door and pulled her into a large bedroom. The furniture was simpler, the colors bolder than in her own suite. Crimson brocade draperies were pulled back from the long windows and matched the coverlet on the king-size bed. “Lie down.”
She stared at him warily.
He shut the door and kicked off his loafers. “Lie down,” he said again as he crossed the room and pulled the drapes closed. Dark, softly intimate shadows invaded the room. “Take off your shoes and loosen your clothing.” He stood there, waiting. “Come on. Do you need me to help you?”
“I don’t mean to stay very long. I need to get that scene right.”
“There’s plenty of time.” He watched her until she settled herself on the crimson coverlet before moving to stand over her. “A three-hour nap and I’ll let you work two hours before dinner.”
“Let?”
“Poor choice of words.” He lay down beside her, not touching her, his gaze on her face. “Open mouth, insert foot. You already know what a rough bastard I am.” He rested his cheek on his fist. “Go to sleep.”
She chuckled suddenly. “You expect me to go to sleep with you lying there staring at me?”
“Why not?”
“Because I feel as if I’m being stalked.”
“If I was stalking you, you’d know it. I’m not subtle.”
“If you insist on staying here, why don’t you go read a book or something?”
“Because I kind of like lying here and looking at you,” he said simply.
She felt an odd melting sensation and quickly lowered her lashes to half-veil her eyes.
“When I’m away from you I forget how beautiful you are. It always comes as a fresh shock.” He leaned over and gently passed his hand over her lids, closing them. “But it’s even better now. I like the way you look with your black hair all silky and mussed on my pillow.” His voice, deep, rich and musical, came softly through the darkness. “And I … like taking care of you.”
A touch of wonder had threaded his tone. “You sound surprised.” She yawned. “Haven’t you ever—”
“Shh.” She could feel his big body shift on the bed as he drew her close.
She went rigid and then relaxed when she realized there was nothing in the least sexual about the embrace. The heaviness of his arms held only comfort and loving tenderness.
“Isn’t this nice?” he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. “You’re as soft and cuddly as Old Joe.”
“Old Joe?”
“When I was a kid, I had a toy giraffe named Old Joe.”
She drew closer. “Why old?”
“He had old eyes. They looked like they’d seen the birth of the earth.”
“Most kids have teddy bears.”
“Old Joe and I understood each other.”
Because Sabin had been forced to be old before his time too, she wondered drowsily. Without thinking, she slid her arms around him and burrowed her face in his shoulder. “I had a panda bear. Actually, I still have him. He’s packed away with some furniture and books in a warehouse in Chicago.”
“Most kids seem to have bears. They’re cuter than giraffes.”
She nodded. And their eyes weren’t old and weary but bright black buttons, suitable for a child’s world. “Where’s Old Joe now?”
“Lord only knows. Go to sleep.”
She was already half-asleep, she realized. “You, too?”
“I’ll try later.”
“You should find him.”
“Who?”
“Old Joe.” Her voice was barely audible. “You should hold onto things you care about. You shouldn’t have let him go …”
She was deeply asleep.
Sabin lay there as the minutes ticked by, his gaze fastened on the drapes across the room. Lord, he hadn’t thought of Old Joe in over twenty years. It was hardly any wonder. Old Joe had belonged to a gentler Sabin Wyatt, a child who hadn’t known the world was more often dark than bright and had little place for gentleness or affection.
Sabin’s gaze shifted thoughtfully to Mallory’s face. He knew why she had resurrected the memory of that time. Mallory, too, possessed a certain gentleness, a seeking for the bright side, a hope for the future.
What the hell had he done to himself by bringing her to Kandrahan? What had started as lust was changing into something else entirely. Lord, he was even indulging in maudlin reminiscences about the boy he had been and a dumb toy giraffe that had probably been thrown away twenty years ago. If he had any sense, he would send her to Marasef tomorrow and get back to the world he could control.
She stirred against him, and he looked down quickly, his arms instinctively tightening in protection and possession.
And he knew he wouldn’t be sending her to Marasef tomorrow.
FOUR
IT WAS NEARLY six o’clock when Mallory opened her eyes. For a moment she stiffened in alarm as her drowsy gaze met Sabin’s watchful stare only inches away.
“Hello.” His voice was as alert as his stare and he immediately released her and sat up. “You’d better go to your room now and dress for dinner.”
“It’s not late.” She could have bitten her tongue. It sounded as if she were asking him to let her stay. “I mean, we didn’t dine until almost eight-thirty last night.”
“But it will be seven-thirty from now on.” He stood up, came around the bed, and reached out a hand to pull her to her feet. “You need to get to bed earlier.”
“Naps every afternoon, early to bed. I feel like an invalid.” She brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “You’re not my doctor, Sabin.”
“No, but if I were,
I’d do a hell of a lot better job than that pill-slinging Dr. Blairen. Since you’re in my care for the next weeks, I look upon myself as your guardian.” He bent and retrieved her sandals from the floor beside the bed and handed them to her. “Your slippers, Cinderella.”
She sat down on the bed and slid her foot into the white sandal. “I can’t see you in the role of guardian either.”
“You’ll find I’m very good at it. I’ve had a lot of practice.” He smiled crookedly. “Though not with people. My experience lies with guarding corporations, but I’m sure the principle is the same.”
She put on the other sandal and stood up. “I’ve never been compared to a corporation before.”
“Assets, deficits, vulnerabilities, strengths.” He shrugged. “Both corporations and people are a mixed bag. You have to protect and nurture and guard against certain things in both of them.”
“But you prefer corporations.”
“Usually.” His expression became guarded. “It’s safer.”
She quickly masked the twinge of sympathy she felt at his words. He would neither accept nor appreciate pity. She moved toward the door. “I’ll see you at dinner. I have to make a phone call to New York. Will you ask Carey to place it for me through the Sedikhan operator?”
“Who are you going to call?”
She turned as she opened the door and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to phone the FBI or the State Department. Considering my present notoriety I doubt if they’d pay any attention if I shouted ‘wolf.’” She suddenly grinned as she realized the unintentional play on words. “Though if the shoe fits …”
His light eyes twinkled. “Or the fangs?”
Her smile faded. “The telephone call?”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“I promised James Delage I’d call when I arrived in Sedikhan. He said Gerda would be anxious about me.” She made a face. “He warned me not to come here when I called to say good-bye. I suppose I should have listened to him.”
“No, you were right. What was there for you in New York if you hadn’t come?”
“Possibilities.”
“You have that here.” He met her gaze. “Infinite possibilities.”
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